Whiskey Lullaby
by misstris1221
Summary: This is a song-phic. Obviously it's to Whiskey Lullaby and takes place a few years after the opera burns. Just an idea I had. Kinda sad, with character deaths. Let me know what you think! T for safety


**A/N: Obviously this is a song fic that was inspired by 'Whiskey Lullaby' by Brad Paisley. I know not all the lyrics fit, but what can you do? Hope you enjoy. :D**

**Disclaimer: All rights go to people who created POTO and Whiskey Lullaby. May include Susan Kay references.**

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo**

_**She put him out**_

_**like the burnin' end of a midnight cigarette**_

It was crushed. Any part that him that his cruel and unforgiving life had left untouched was crushed. She was his reason to live. To breathe.

What was there now?

Music didn't mean anything anymore. The beauty and purpose were gone. She had taken it all with her. He hardly played anymore. What was the point?

_**She broke his heart, **_

_**he spent his whole life tryin' to forget**_

He refused to think her name. The alcohol and hashish worked away at his mind day by day. He slept even less than he had before. When he did, she was there. He couldn't stand being with her only to wake up with empty arms.

_**We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time  
But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind**_

He tipped the bottle back until it was empty.

"Damn!" He snarled. The enraged man threw the bottle across the room to have it shatter against the stone wall. He immediately went to fetch another. _When was the last time he had ventured above_? He thought. He was in need of more alcohol, no doubt. He sneered at the thought of having to leave.

He preferred the dark where he could hide.

_**Until the night…**_

His eyes were fully dilated, from the drug.

"_Erik…"_

He spun around at the voice. _Her_ voice.

"_Erik…"_Christine stood there in front of him, more beautiful that ever. Could it be?

"Chr-Christine?" Erik whimpered, staggering forward.

"_Yes, love"_ Her smile was bright and her eyes were soft.

"I miss you, my angel" He made his way toward her.

"_I miss you too, mon ange. Don't worry, it will all be okay" She cooed. She slowly began fading._

"Don't leave me, Christine" He begged. He knew she would; she always did.

"_I have to" _Her eyes were sad.

"No!"

"_I love you"_

The beautiful figment vanished; leaving Erik alone yet again. A soul shattering cry echoed through the catacombs.

**He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger**

It had been almost four years.

Four cold, dark, lonesome years.

No more.

He scrambled through his things until he found it. The gun felt cold and heavy in his hand. It filled him with an odd sense of peace. It would be over soon.

_**And finally drank away her memory**_

The empty bottle was set by his bed. He could hardly think through the alcohol. He could think of only one thing.

_Christine…_

The sharp bang echoed throughout the catacombs, scaring anything that lived in the darkness.

_**Life is short, but this time it was bigger  
Than the strength he had to get up off his knees**_

He didn't remember her anymore. He didn't feel the longing for her he had before. She no longer haunted his every thought. The pain was gone.

He didn't feel anything. That was how he liked it.

_**We found him with his face down in the pillow  
With a note that said, 'I'll love her till I die.'**_

He lay there, a charcoal picture of her beside him, lightly spattered in blood. The cold box that had once served as his bed, now served its true purpose.

_**And when we buried him beneath the willow**_

No one knew. No one cared.

Only her. Always her.

_**The angels sang a whiskey lullaby**_

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

The rumors flew…

The stares burned. She couldn't go anywhere without feeling their eyes boring into her. Raoul tried to assure her that their opinions didn't matter. However, that didn't stop the whispers.

"That's her"

"She's the one that the Opera Ghost was obsessed with"

"I hear she's the reason the opera burned!"

"I can't believe a respectable and hansom man like the Vicomte would marry her!"

…_**but nobody knew how much she blamed herself**_

Everyday she would go through the same thing.

Then when night came, it was routine. She and her husband would climb into bed together and she would silently cry herself to sleep, hoping he couldn't hear.

_**For years and years, she tried to hide the whiskey on her breath**_

The bottle was tucked neatly under the mattress. That had been its hiding place for quite some time. She hid it from her perfect husband, only bringing it out when he was gone.

She was fairly certain the servants knew, but if they did, they said nothing.

_**She finally drank her pain away a little at a time  
But she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind**_

When she finally did fall asleep, he was there.

He would sing her beautiful lullabies or hold her and whisper sweet nothings in her ear. No matter what happened in those dreams, they always ended the same way.

She always awoke in a frightening place with a stranger in her bed.

_**Until the night…**_

The tears streaked her face. It was no different than any other night.

_No. _Four years was enough. She couldn't do this anymore. Not to herself or Raoul. She had already caused so many people so much pain; caused _him_ so much pain.

"Erik" a broken sob escaped her lips. _**  
**_

_**She put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger**_

She knew where her husband kept it: the key to her happiness. She waited until he had went to a political meeting, then went to his study.

She felt it in her hand and any second thoughts left immediately.

This was right. She had to do this.

_**And finally drank away his memory**_

_Erik… _

She hated doing this to Raoul, but she just couldn't bear it anymore. She set her bottle on the floor and clutched the item in her hand.

The loud bang echoed through the large, unfeeling house.

_**Life is short, but this time it was bigger  
Than the strength she had to get up off her knees**_

Raoul had seen the change in Christine over the years. It tore at his heart, knowing he could do nothing to ease the pain. He did his best to make her happy and to help her forget. But he knew it was a waste of time.

He loved her, he truly did. That just wasn't enough.

_**We found her with her face down in the pillow  
Clinging to his picture for dear life**_

The maids were the first to find her. The sound had startled the help and they rushed to the bedroom. She was curled up on the floor, holding a striking white half-mask. _**  
**_

_**We laid her next to him beneath the willow,**_

Raoul layed it in the box with her. The white was shocking against her dark dress. He knew she had loved him, just not in the same way. The mask was lain on her chest. He knew she would have wanted it this way.

She was never his. She belonged to the man in the mask...

_**While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby…**_

_**A/N:** Hope you liked it! Review please! To clean up confusion, Christine did NOT know Erik was dead._


End file.
